


silence rings

by kontj (kaguol)



Series: hydrangeas [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, bad head space, tsukki talking you down from a bad headspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28011321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaguol/pseuds/kontj
Summary: self indulgent drabble to cope with a really bad brain day.wherein tsukishima comes home to silence, and his world so faraway.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Reader
Series: hydrangeas [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031949
Kudos: 67





	silence rings

it is in the silence that tsukishima flinches.

your apartment was never quiet. he’d always come home to some sort of ruckus: the sizzling of the pan and the sweet smell of dinner, the shake of your hips to an old ballroom tune, or the quiet happiness as you turned the pages of your book.

the door slams shut, and though there’s part of him that knows his actions are beyond childish, he lets his feet stomp through the halls anyway.

the ringing in his ears steadily increase as he enters the threshold, eyes catching sight of your figure on the couch. though he raises his eyebrow at the grunted greeting, he pays no mind.

“what’s wrong with you?”

he says this off handedly, ridding of his coat and heading to the bedroom. it takes him a couple minutes to ruffle through your closet, an old university shirt thrown haphazardly over his head. the smell of your detergent is the straw that finally breaks his tether to the outside world, and he allows himself to relax.

it is then that he realizes the ringing.

he takes in the unnerving quiet, and the commotion you’d always brought. he remembers fondly of the wizard of oz metaphor you sent him the morning of your final, comparing him to some wicked witch.

he had lived and breathed and loved the whirlwind that the still air alarmed him.

tsukishima near falls over, scrambling to get to your spot on the couch, now noticing the plastic mugs strewn across the living room floor. still you had not budged from your position, and it takes him a couple practiced breaths to steady his hand, taking your own from its place on the back of your head.

“hey.”

he squeezes, channeling all the gentleness you’ve put into him. the tremble in his voice is unmistakable, as he tells you of his day, calling out to you by name in every other sentence.

tsukishima is a mirror, actions traced from yours whenever he got into stages he couldn’t get himself out of. his tripping over himself, words rushed and a bit nonsensical, but he’s _trying_ — holding out for the tiniest sliver of recognition to pull you back home.

his vision blurs as tears run freely down his cheeks, and it is in the touch of your palm on his head does he see the tired smile on your lips.

for the rest of the night, you exchange secrets, trading the dark curls of your mind for tendrils of light, his hands firm around you.

he doesn’t let silence interfere.


End file.
